ASOS-Chapter 80 - Sansa VII

She awoke all at once, every nerve atingle. For a moment she did not remember where she was. She had dreamt that she was little , still sharing a bedchamber with her sister Arya. But it was her maid she heard tossing in sleep, not her sister, and this was not Winterfell, but the Eyrie. And I am Alayne Stone, a bastard girl. The room was cold and black, though she was warm beneath the blankets. Dawn had not yet come. Sometimes she dreamed of Ser Ilyn Payne and woke with her heart thumping, but this dream had not been like that. Home. It was a dream of home.

Sansa's in a kind of limbo--it's the hour of the world (darkest before dawn) and she's been dreaming of home. But her dreams are based on reality. Whereas her reality is based on a lie--Alayne Stone.

Alayne--like Elaine--on of the Lady of the Lake's names. Who gives the magical sword to Arthur.

And back to your idea of the epiphany's being like Jon's--just like Jon, Sansa has lost her identity. She actively says she's not Sansa. Like Jon says he's a Wildling. But neither of them likes it.

And Marillion. There is always Marillion. When he played for them at supper, the young singer often seemed to be singing directly at her. Her aunt was far from pleased. Lady Lysa doted on Marillion, and had banished two serving girls and even a page for telling lies about him.

Sansa the singer and lover of songs does not like singers anymore, no matter how well he sings. The singer is impudent and dangerous--like believing in the songs has been dangerous for Sansa. Marillion is a threat to the social order of class--like Bael the Bard. Only this time he hasn't stolen the Lord's daughter. He wants to steal her. Instead, he's charmed the Lord's wife--and is thus a threat to the daughter.

Lysa was as lonely as she was. Her new husband seemed to spend more time at the foot of the mountain than he did atop it. He was gone now , had been gone the past four days, meeting with the Corbrays. From bits and pieces of overheard conversations Sansa knew that Jon Arryn’s bannermen resented Lysa’s marriage and begrudged Petyr his authority as Lord Protector of the Vale. The senior branch of House Royce was close to open revolt over her aunt’s failure to aid Robb in his war, and the Waynwoods, Redforts, Belmores, and Templetons were giving them every support. The mountain clans were being troublesome as well, and old Lord Hunter had died so suddenly that his two younger sons were accusing their elder brother of having murdered him. The Vale of Arryn might have been spared the worst of the war, but it was hardly the idyllic place that Lady Lysa had made it out to be.

Turmoil and more turmoil in the Vale. And the ancient, rune-clad house of Royce wants to be in charge and align with the North. Petyr's "plan" (not yet announced) has merit. And Sansa's aware of that before Petyr tells her the plan.

The mountain clans with Lannister steel and tourblesome--the Lannisters keep making trouble.

I am not going back to sleep, Sansa realized. My head is all a tumult. She pushed her pillow away reluctantly, threw back the blankets, went to her window, and opened the shutters. Snow was falling on the Eyrie. Outside the flakes drifted down as soft and silent as memory. Was this what woke me? Already the snowfall lay thick upon the garden below, blanketing the grass, dusting the shrubs and statues with white and weighing down the branches of the trees. The sight took Sansa back to cold nights long ago, in the long summer of her childhood.

And into all of this tumult--a covering. All of the lies covering her are now covered by snow--which is home. White--like weirwoods and Ghost.

She had last seen snow the day she’d left Winterfell. That was a lighter fall than this, she remembered. Robb had melting flakes in his hair when he hugged me, and the snowball Arya tried to make kept coming apart in her hands. It hurt to remember how happy she had been that morning. Hullen had helped her mount, and she’d ridden out with the snowflakes swirling around her, off to see the great wide world. I thought my song was beginning that day, but it was almost done.

Yes--you're right. This is like Jon. Sansa's remembering home and rejecting it. For a new vow to Joffrey. Like Jon made a vow to the Watch and later wonders if Arya is still his sister.

"My song was almost done." --she sees herself as dead. A girl with a song all done now. Hidden under a new name and stone. Like Jon's death of identity.

Sansa left the shutters open as she dressed. It would be cold, she knew, though the Eyrie’s towers encircled the garden and protected it from the worst of the mountain winds. She donned silken smallclothes and a linen shift, and over that a warm dress of blue lambswool. Two pairs of hose for her legs, boots that laced up to her knees, heavy leather gloves, and finally a hooded cloak of soft white fox fur.

Martin really does like talking about clothes. Well, Sansa would like it. Still . . .

She's in blue lambswool. Blue for the Eyrie. Lamb for purityy?

And she's going into an enclosed, protected garden. Down into it--like going down into a godswood or the Winterfell crypts. A safe place.

All art is at once surface and symbol. Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril. Those who read the symbol do so at their peril. It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors. Oscar Wilde.

Lady Dyanna
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And Rhaegar loved his Lady Lyanna. Blah. Blah. Blah. Hand me the war hammer!

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ASOS-Chapter 80 - Sansa VII Sept 5, 2015 4:28:08 GMT

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Post by Lady Dyanna on Sept 5, 2015 4:28:08 GMT

Sept 4, 2015 12:54:45 GMT SlyWren said:

She awoke all at once, every nerve atingle. For a moment she did not remember where she was. She had dreamt that she was little , still sharing a bedchamber with her sister Arya. But it was her maid she heard tossing in sleep, not her sister, and this was not Winterfell, but the Eyrie. And I am Alayne Stone, a bastard girl. The room was cold and black, though she was warm beneath the blankets. Dawn had not yet come. Sometimes she dreamed of Ser Ilyn Payne and woke with her heart thumping, but this dream had not been like that. Home. It was a dream of home.

Sansa's in a kind of limbo--it's the hour of the world (darkest before dawn) and she's been dreaming of home. But her dreams are based on reality. Whereas her reality is based on a lie--Alayne Stone.

Alayne--like Elaine--on of the Lady of the Lake's names. Who gives the magical sword to Arthur.

And back to your idea of the epiphany's being like Jon's--just like Jon, Sansa has lost her identity. She actively says she's not Sansa. Like Jon says he's a Wildling. But neither of them likes it.

::i agree:: Interesting thought on Alayne v Elaine. I wonder if that might end up having some significance at some point? Especially if she could be warging Lady, considering the extreme likelihood of a trip to the underworld for Jon.

And Marillion. There is always Marillion. When he played for them at supper, the young singer often seemed to be singing directly at her. Her aunt was far from pleased. Lady Lysa doted on Marillion, and had banished two serving girls and even a page for telling lies about him.

Sansa the singer and lover of songs does not like singers anymore, no matter how well he sings. The singer is impudent and dangerous--like believing in the songs has been dangerous for Sansa. Marillion is a threat to the social order of class--like Bael the Bard. Only this time he hasn't stolen the Lord's daughter. He wants to steal her. Instead, he's charmed the Lord's wife--and is thus a threat to the daughter.

In a way I'm tempted to equate Marillion to Rhaegar here, but this would go against what I have to say below.

Lysa was as lonely as she was. Her new husband seemed to spend more time at the foot of the mountain than he did atop it. He was gone now , had been gone the past four days, meeting with the Corbrays. From bits and pieces of overheard conversations Sansa knew that Jon Arryn’s bannermen resented Lysa’s marriage and begrudged Petyr his authority as Lord Protector of the Vale. The senior branch of House Royce was close to open revolt over her aunt’s failure to aid Robb in his war, and the Waynwoods, Redforts, Belmores, and Templetons were giving them every support. The mountain clans were being troublesome as well, and old Lord Hunter had died so suddenly that his two younger sons were accusing their elder brother of having murdered him. The Vale of Arryn might have been spared the worst of the war, but it was hardly the idyllic place that Lady Lysa had made it out to be.

Turmoil and more turmoil in the Vale. And the ancient, rune-clad house of Royce wants to be in charge and align with the North. Petyr's "plan" (not yet announced) has merit. And Sansa's aware of that before Petyr tells her the plan.

The mountain clans with Lannister steel and tourblesome--the Lannisters keep making trouble.

Severely cracked pot: I'm very tempted to equate some of the things in these early paragraphs as partial setup for the echoes that follow later in the chapter. Could Vale=Dorne during RR? Could LF=Rhaegar running about trying to put out the fire of rebellion? The Martells are pretty well tied to the Targaryans through Elia at this point, but what about the rest? The Martells have never been the strongest of leaders. The question then becomes, who is the Lysa in this scenario? Elia? Lyanna? Crazy idea: Ashara?

I am not going back to sleep, Sansa realized. My head is all a tumult. She pushed her pillow away reluctantly, threw back the blankets, went to her window, and opened the shutters. Snow was falling on the Eyrie. Outside the flakes drifted down as soft and silent as memory. Was this what woke me? Already the snowfall lay thick upon the garden below, blanketing the grass, dusting the shrubs and statues with white and weighing down the branches of the trees. The sight took Sansa back to cold nights long ago, in the long summer of her childhood.

And into all of this tumult--a covering. All of the lies covering her are now covered by snow--which is home. White--like weirwoods and Ghost.

Nice! I wonder, though, whose memories do the fallen snowflakes represent? Sansa's? Older memories?

She had last seen snow the day she’d left Winterfell. That was a lighter fall than this, she remembered. Robb had melting flakes in his hair when he hugged me, and the snowball Arya tried to make kept coming apart in her hands. It hurt to remember how happy she had been that morning. Hullen had helped her mount, and she’d ridden out with the snowflakes swirling around her, off to see the great wide world. I thought my song was beginning that day, but it was almost done.

Yes--you're right. This is like Jon. Sansa's remembering home and rejecting it. For a new vow to Joffrey. Like Jon made a vow to the Watch and later wonders if Arya is still his sister.

"My song was almost done." --she sees herself as dead. A girl with a song all done now. Hidden under a new name and stone. Like Jon's death of identity.

She is definitely having a conflict of identity here, just as Jon did. Sees herself as dead, rising as Alayne, just as Jon rises as a wilding raider. Neither are comfortable in these new identities. They are not who they are, not meant to last. BC made an interesting comment on heresy the other day. This was not the death of Sansa STARK, but rather Sansa Tulley, the Lady that rejected Winterfell in favor of songs and southern court, etc. If this is true she remains free to rise again in the future as the true Stark that she is.

Sansa left the shutters open as she dressed. It would be cold, she knew, though the Eyrie’s towers encircled the garden and protected it from the worst of the mountain winds. She donned silken smallclothes and a linen shift, and over that a warm dress of blue lambswool. Two pairs of hose for her legs, boots that laced up to her knees, heavy leather gloves, and finally a hooded cloak of soft white fox fur.

Martin really does like talking about clothes. Well, Sansa would like it. Still . . .

She's in blue lambswool. Blue for the Eyrie. Lamb for purityy?

And she's going into an enclosed, protected garden. Down into it--like going down into a godswood or the Winterfell crypts. A safe place.

I'm thinking blue, for a blue winter rose. Later in this chapter, Sansa will echo Lyanna.

Last Edit: Sept 5, 2015 4:31:37 GMT by Lady Dyanna

Why must I always be the isle of crazy alone in an ocean of sensibility?
The should to everybody else’s shouldn’t?
The I-will to their better-nots?

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ASOS-Chapter 80 - Sansa VII Sept 6, 2015 3:57:10 GMT

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Post by SlyWren on Sept 6, 2015 3:57:10 GMT

Interesting thought on Alayne v Elaine. I wonder if that might end up having some significance at some point? Especially if she could be warging Lady, considering the extreme likelihood of a trip to the underworld for Jon.

I know I tend to look for ways to fit Sansa back into the main narrative of her family, but the name does seem significant, especially with all of Arthurian "traces" around the Daynes who really seem to be tied to Jon. So, not sure if the name will pan out, but Martin could shave chosen anything. And he chose an alternative spelling of Elaine. With all of its Arthurian links.

Underworld? Maybe--considering what's coming up. Though if she suddenly pops out of a pool with a sword by eyes will never stop rolling.

Nice! I wonder, though, whose memories do the fallen snowflakes represent? Sansa's? Older memories?

I like the memories idea. Her mind is going home--even though she's telling herself she's Alyane.

Also, the snow is weighing down and covering everything. Like a pall. Like death--all even. And the memories of childhood, of home--a home built on an ancient past. The snow is almost turning the Eyrie into home--like her presence changes it. Or, more realistically, winter changes it back to her home for her. She really is a child of winter. Winter's Queen/Princess.

She is definitely having a conflict of identity here, just as Jon did. Sees herself as dead, rising as Alayne, just as Jon rises as a wilding raider. Neither are comfortable in these new identities. They are not who they are, not meant to last. BC made an interesting comment on heresy the other day. This was not the death of Sansa STARK, but rather Sansa Tulley, the Lady that rejected Winterfell in favor of songs and southern court, etc. If this is true she remains free to rise again in the future as the true Stark that she is.

And I like the death of Sansa Tully idea--a lot of commenters talk about how the death of Lady=death of Sansa as Stark. But that didn't make sense to me--the Starks literally live with their dead. And Ned sent Lady all the way back to Winterfell for a proper burial.

But the Tully side--that has gotten in Cat's way, too. And now she's Stoneheart. The demon Mother in the Riverlands. But Sansa's a Snow Princess--hiding under a Stone.